


Go Home Scott, You're Drunk

by Induurisa



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk Scott, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Irresponsible but also slightly responsible Warren Worthington III, Mom Friend Jean Grey, O5 being buds, One Shot, Same for Scott but reversed, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Induurisa/pseuds/Induurisa
Summary: After meeting with a few of the other heroes at a party that gets a little out of hand after Scott accidentally drinks too much of an unknown bottle Warren had gifted, Warren drives a very drunk Scott Summers home to Jean.





	Go Home Scott, You're Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a tie-in short story for a condensed multiverse Marvel RP and edited to make more sense without the whole context.
> 
> (For some context, though, the RP involves a hero group chat. Scott hasn't proposed to Jean, but they've been in an established relationship for some years. Characters are a mish-mash of their comic, TV, and movie selves. The Phoenix/Dark Phoenix saga has occurred, but think the '90s cartoon version of it where it's the happy ending and everyone goes home fine at the end.)

Warren drove them both back home through the city and down the winding roads that led up to the Westchester mansion. It was dark—both inside and out, save for the few lights inside that were still on. A few were kids staying year-round with terrible sleep schedules, one was Hank, busy reading Darwin’s _The Origin of Species_ for the umpteenth time instead of sleeping, and in one corner of the mansion was another light in a certain office. That office belonged to Professor Charles Xavier.

As Warren pulled into the garage in the Bugatti, Scott still mumbling and intermittently chuckling or crying, Jean looked up from her lap and got to her feet, sensing Scott as he got closer.

“Go on, Jean,” Charles smiled, gesturing for her to leave as he put down the book he was reading. “I’m going to head back to bed, now that our brave field leader has returned home.” Jean nodded to him.

“Good night, Professor. And thanks for getting up for this.”

“My dear, I didn’t really have a choice. Scott can think incredibly loudly when he wants to,” Charles said with a chuckle, and started to roll his wheelchair to the door that connected his office to his bedroom. “Take care of him, Jean.”

“I always have,” Jean said, and gave him a little wave as she left her mentor’s office and made her way to the garage.

* * *

_So… stupid. Ugh. Head hurts again. Need t’… Aspirin. Ow. Gonna kill Warren… Polish… Jean. Love you so much. Want you to know._

“Hey, Scotty, we’re here. C’mon buddy, let’s go. Up and at ‘em. Don’t make me drag your ass outta there, man.” Warren stood outside the passenger side of the car, one hand on the top of the door as he peered inside the Bugatti. Scott was sitting languidly where Warren had dumped him and buckled him in at the compound, visor slightly askew. “Oop. Hang on.” Warren leaned forward and fixed it back into place. Scott mumbled something in protest and swatted at Warren’s hands.

“Jean,” he said, and Warren sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna take you to Jean. She’ll fix you up, Summers.”

“No, _Jean.”_

“Come on, Summers, get out of the car…” Warren urged, and hooked Scott’s right arm around his neck as he helped the currently less-than-dignified leader of the X-Men out of the vehicle. Scott stumbled slightly, leaning heavily on Warren as he wiped at his face with the back of his other hand, sniffling. “Man, you are a fucking _mess._ ”

“Hey, Warren.” Warren jumped at the voice.

“Whoa, hey, Jean. Could’ve let me know you were coming before sneaking up on me like that,” Warren said as he wheeled around to see Jean standing at the garage door, hands stuffed into the pockets of her fuzzy pink bathrobe. She smiled, walking towards the pair.

“Sorry. How is he?” Jean immediately turned her attention to Scott, who was mumbling again and leaning against Warren. Warren kept one of his wings wrapped around Scott’s back as he locked up the Bugatti and started to the garage door with Jean by their side.

“He’s a disaster, Jean. What’s new? His first meeting with these folks in person and he gets hammered so bad he can barely walk around. Blasts his beams into the sky and freaks out the locals. Again. Dude needs a _serious_ vacation. I’m uh… sorry about providing the booze, by the way. Maybe I shouldn’t have stuck in that bottle of… whatever my buddy got from that shady place in Poland. But it was expensive! I thought it was good,” Warren said as they closed up the garage and started to help Scott to the mansion itself.

“Too many… too many conson… Consonants. Fuck you, Worth. Worthy. Worthyton. Warren,” Scott muttered, chuckling a bit and leaning back into Warren’s wing. “Soft. ‘Member… Mission… one time. Wings. Made great pillows. Warm. Y’re great, Warren. Angel. Love you. And… Jean, love you. You remember? Jean?”

“I remember, Scott. Come on, now,” she soothed, using some of her telekinesis to help Warren get Scott up the steps without taking a spill. At the same time, she glided into Scott’s mind—like a second home to her—and started tidying up as best she could. It wasn’t the first time.

Usually his mind was so orderly. Rigid, structured, and strong, like him. But within the carefully tended grounds, through the maze of hallways and labeled doors and cabinets and boxes, there was some chaos underneath. The alcohol had taken his filing cabinets and thrown open the doors, spilled out those organized memories. The trauma, the happy times, the nightmares, the fears, the love. All over the place.

She helped him pick everything up and put it back where it was supposed to go.

_I’m sorry, Jean._

_ <Don’t be. I just wish you’d taken care of yourself better, Scott. You hate it when this happens. You hate _yourself _when this happens. And I don’t like to see you like that. >_

_I’m sorry._

_ <Hey, listen to me, Scott, love. I’m here. Everything is alright. You’re home, you’re safe now. Let me take care of those worries you have. Let me help.>_

_Thank you. Sorry._

_ <Shh, Scott. Just guide me, and I’ll do the rest. You know how. We’ve done this before.>_

_Shouldn’t have to._

_ <Maybe not, but I want to. Let me help you, Scott.>_

_Charles should be mad at me. Fucked it up. Fucked it up again._

_ <No, Scott. You were just trying to have fun. It just got a little out of hand. It’s okay.>_

_Guess I’m not doing that again._

_ <Not the time, Scott. Not the time to start bashing yourself. Just relax. Keep leading the way. Look how much we’ve cleaned up already.>_

_There’s so much._

_ <The rest will fix itself with rest and time. You know that.>_

_I’m so sorry, Jean._

_ <Shh…>_

_I’m…_

_ <Sleep, Scott.>_

“Whoa, hell. Did you do that or did he just pass out on us? He okay?” Warren almost dropped Scott with the sudden dead weight, and Jean rushed to help keep him up with her telekinesis.

“I did that. I was helping him clean up the mess in his head, and he started to get a little… You know.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

They carried Scott to Jean’s room, and lay him on her bed, where he immediately let out a sigh and relaxed into the sheets, inhaling deeply. Warren chuckled, hands on his hips as he watched.

“I don’t know how you put up with this guy sometimes, Jean. He can be a real loser,” he said, taking a step back and yawning, stretching out his wings behind him and into the hallway. He shook them out, sending a couple feathers fluttering to the floor. Jean gave a wave of her hand and swept them up with her mind, tucking them behind Warren’s ears. “Hey.”

“That’s _my_ loser you’re talking about, Angel. Watch your mouth. Don’t make me go and tell the Professor about that time when _you_ got so drunk in Florida that you—”

“Okay, okay! I got it, Jean. And sorry again about all the… Stuff. Heheh. I’m sticking around for a while, so lemme know if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you,” he said, plucking the feathers from behind his ears and twisting them between his fingers absently as he looked at Scott on the bed. He let out a sigh. “And anything I can do to make it up to Scotty here.”

“I’ll leave that up to you two. But be prepared for his wrath when he recovers from this hangover. It’s not going to be pretty,” Jean said with a smirk, and waved her hand at him. He started to feel an invisible force pulling him backwards across the floor towards the door and the dimly lit hallway.

“Alright, Marvel Girl, I got the message…” he grumbled, turning and shuffling his wings closed on his back. A couple more feathers dropped, and Jean swept them outside her room with a smile.

“And pick up your mess, Warren. You’re starting to molt again,” she called after him before closing the door on him. She heard him mumble a few things from behind the door, including a few choice curses, before he shuffled off. Shaking her head, Jean flicked on a bedside light, illuminating the room.

She padded to the nightstand and took out Scott’s spare sleeping mask he kept there, and exchanged his visor for the mask, her fingers lingering on his face. Jean looked down at him tenderly, smiling as she brushed aside a few locks of hair and kissed his forehead. She then went about using her telekinesis to help him out of his shoes and jacket, then most of his clothes. She pulled his doffed shirt to her face, inhaling and wrinkling her nose.

“Scott, how much did you have to drink…? _What_ did you have to drink?”

She tossed his clothes into the hamper in the closet and then set about filling a glass of water and leaving it on the nightstand on Scott’s side of the bed, along with a couple of aspirin for the morning. She took off her bathrobe and flung it over a chair as she slipped into bed with Scott, brushing against his mind gently to check on him. Still fast asleep. Poor man. Shaking her head again and smiling, she turned off the light with her telekinesis and snuggled up next to him, nestling her head against his bare chest. She fell asleep to the sound and feel of his beating heart against her ear.


End file.
